


When Gordon Was Born  (Part two of Tracy Boys Origins)

by thunderbird_dragon



Series: When they were born (Tracy Boys Origins) [2]
Category: Thunderbirds, thunderbirds are go
Genre: Fanart, Multi, Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-02
Updated: 2018-05-02
Packaged: 2019-05-01 09:33:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,257
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14517576
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thunderbird_dragon/pseuds/thunderbird_dragon
Summary: The birth of the Tracy's fourth child came quickly and unexpectedly.





	When Gordon Was Born  (Part two of Tracy Boys Origins)

**Author's Note:**

> somewhere I read cannon saying Gordon had been born prematurely - not sure where but hopefully I will find it again. Meanwhile, here's my take in total head cannon.
> 
> I wrote these stories in this order - reverse order of the boys' births - for a very good reason, if you'd like to read them all, please read them in the order they were written as they build to the rather unexpected finale of Scott's birth.

 

                                          

“Daddy, Daddy! We’ve been trying to get you for, for, for ages! You’ve got to come, now!”

It was unlike Jeff’s eldest to sound panicked, he’d been Jeff’s big boy for five years now, since John’s birth. A solidly dependably little chap despite him not quite being eight yet.

“Steady there Scotty, what’s the trouble? Where’s your Mom?  Put her on the comms.” A nervous laugh in his voice, Jeff was already worrying.

“I can’t Daddy, I can’t! Doc Nomere says you’ve gotta come now!” This was just too big a call for Scott to handle. He’d obviously been crying before Jeff had answered and now he sounded frantic. “It’s Mommy, she’s having the baby!  Now Daddy, now!”

“No, Scotty that can’t be right, the baby’s not due for over two months yet.” Jeff felt a wave of relief. Doc Nomere was getting a reputation in his old age - this wasn't the first time he'd declared terrible occurrences unnecessarily, but loyalty kept them with him after three generations.

Jeff tried again to calm Scott down. “It’s okay Scotty, the Doc will have got it wrong again. Don’t you worry now.”

The sounds of his two younger sons and their Grandmother suddenly echoed behind Scott on the comms.

“Scott, what’s your Grandmother doing there?”

But she had taken the comms away from the boy and said with some force, “Stop wasting what little time there is Jefferson, and get here – now!”

 

Jeff found his family huddled in a side room off the main maternity unit. Three little tearful boys, 7, 5 and almost 3 and their Grandmother whose arms engulfed them all. They broke away, one at a time, to run to their Daddy until he was able to stand up with all three in his arms. But his eyes were on his mother.

“Any news yet, what happened?”

“She slipped, Jeff.  That damned kitchen floor! She’s in the operating theatre now.” Her voice dropped away in a way that frightened him.

He chose carefully what to ask in the hope that it would go over his boys’ heads, “Prognosis?”

She replied likewise, “Below average,” and she tried to maintain the calm gentle smile on her face for the boys’ sakes.

His heart sunk, he wanted to know more but couldn’t think how to ask. “Which?”

“Both.”

He sat heavily, the boys snuggling into him closely.

“Daddy?” John lifted his head to look up at him, “Mommy was crying.”

And Jeff’s heart broke.

Unable to speak, he just held them in closely and rocked them gently.

 

Two hours later a surgeon came looking for them.

“Mr Tracy?” and he shook Jeff lightly by the hand. “Some good news, some not so good, I’m sorry to say. Your wife broke her femur in the fall and I have to be honest, she took the fall badly, but she’s stable now. However, she did go into labour and it’s the baby who isn’t doing so well.” He stopped long enough to smile down at the array of small boys asleep on their father’s lap. “You have another son, Mr Tracy, but you’ll have to prepare yourself and your family – the baby’s over 8 weeks premature. We’ve been unable to establish independent breathing at this stage, his lungs are nowhere near developed for that. Plus he’s showing early symptoms of several of the complications that we would expect, so…” He looked Jeff in the eye and tried to be as sincere as he could, but always found this bit the hardest. “The little chaps chances aren’t all that great.”

Jeff was nodding at all he was being told, on autopilot, unable to take it all in.

“Can I see Lucille?”

The surgeon watched his face closely, this new father hadn’t asked to see the baby, was he trying to protect himself from the heartache? He gave Jeff a second longer.

“Is the baby with her?”

“Yes, they are together in the ICU.” And the surgeon half smiled to himself, it seemed this father would cope after all.

“Can I see them?” then turning to the boys he added, “I’ll go first and check Mommy’s awake, okay?”

Yes, he’d cope well.

 

The room was dimly lit and quiet, bar the rhythmic bleeping of the monitors. Jeff knew enough to quickly scan them and deduce what he could from the data boards for both his beloved Lucille and his new baby son too.

What had Lucille chosen to call him? He wished he could remember, but there was supposed to be two months yet for him to get used to the new name and in any case, she would probably have changed her mind twice more by the time the baby was due…

He felt the tears start to sting again.

Lucille lay half propped up, sleeping like the beautiful princess Jeff had always seen her as, her dark auburn hair neatly twisted into a braid to one side to keep it out of the way, her chocolate brown eyes closed gently. He took her hand but she didn’t stir.

He leaned towards the enclosed crystal case that held his newborn son, just 4lbs plus a few ounces, and no more than 15” long. The nurse tending him looked up and smiled but Jeff suddenly felt that it was a smile of sympathy, of regret for the family, it choked him further. Finally he looked down at the baby himself

A tiny scrap of humanity.

Breathing so fast yet so very shallowly.

Pink and wrinkled, connected to every conceivable monitor and alarm, there was hardly a bit of his skin to be seen. Yet pink and wrinkled was what stuck in Jeff’s mind. Where was the bonny chubby Tracy baby? This little thing had no fat to his body at all, no rounded curves to his cheeks or shoulders, no ‘chubblie’ knees like his brothers’ – just skin and tiny, tiny bones.

“Gordon.”

Jeff turned to see Lucille watching him lovingly, he took her hand again.

Of course, now he remembered, “Yes, Gordon. He’s so…” Jeff was lost for words again.

“He’ll make it Jeff, I promise. Did they tell you he nearly died – twice! He wasn’t ready to give up. He’s a little fighter Jeff, just like our other boys. Just like a Tracy!” She tried to sit up but aborted the attempt. “Jeff, have the boys met him yet?”

“I wasn’t sure about bringing them in – I don’t want them to get upset.” He held her close, “Lucy, the doctors don’t give him a lot of hope.” Hadn’t they explained this to her yet?

She held on tight to him. “Rubbish Jeff – look at him! He’s a feisty little one, he may have to make do with an artificial womb until his heart, lungs and liver develop and until his immune system catches up, but I’ll stay right here with him and he’ll make it through, believe me, Jeff.” It wasn’t a plea, she really meant it, she’d already seen some of the tenacity within this little mite, some of the perseverance that he’d show later in life.

Jeff wanted to shake his head and tell her again not to hope, but baby Gordon opened both eyes and watched with unfocused eyes the shapes of his mom and dad, with eyes so dark that Jeff was reminded of pools of deep water.

And instantly Jeff seemed to know that Lucille was right, this little mite was a Tracy boy – of course he'll survive.

“Okay, if you’re sure, Lucille, I’ll get the boys.”


End file.
